


shine where light demands

by cosmic strings (electrick)



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Canon Divergence, F/M, hormonal teenager realizations, if the aftermath of Zuko and Azula's Agni Kai had ended MY way, soft like my sourdough starter, their love language is hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24299788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrick/pseuds/cosmic%20strings
Summary: Zuko stirs in his sleep and rolls to his side so he faces Katara, eyes still closed. She holds her breath as he settles back into sleep, but she hears him murmur something. A part of her wants to rush over, hold his hand close to her heart and run her fingers through his raven hair that crowns the pillow.--in which the author grants Katara and Zuko the resolution they deserve
Relationships: Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 17
Kudos: 361





	shine where light demands

**Author's Note:**

> yes, i am posting a zutara fic in the year 2020 seeing as it is my god given right
> 
> title from right for sky by iron & wine

He lays on the bed sleeping, bandages covering his chest and shoulder. She watches the rise and fall of his chest from a chair to the side of his bed. Blood red satin covers his body but leaves his shoulders bare. The deep juncture of his collarbone creates a hollow cave that she has spent the past few hours fixating on.

Zuko stirs in his sleep and rolls to his side so he faces Katara, eyes still closed. She holds her breath as he settles back into sleep, but she hears him murmur something. A part of her wants to rush over, hold his hand close to her heart and run her fingers through his raven hair that crowns the pillow. Quelling that part, she remains seated but sits up straighter, more alert. 

He risked his life for her.

When she closes her eyes, she sees the pure evil and chaos in Azula’s eyes as lightning sparks from her fingertips. Bold blue hues and white stars cloud the blackness behind her eyes and her stomach tightens as she recollects seeing Zuko leap in front of her leaving him on the ground, static fizzling from his body, barely breathing. 

Katara wishes the most evil of punishments upon Azula. 

She hears Zuko speak, his words unintelligible and slowing blinking his eyes open, his golden irises staring back at her. 

“Katara?” his voice, dreamlike, calls out to her. 

She rushes over, kneeling on the ground as she closes her hand over his shoulder. Her heart definitely does not skip a beat as she settles her hand over his skin. The smell of warm spices and musk rushes to her head, she is sure it’s heightened in his room, surrounded by his belongings. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks, speaking in dulcet tones. 

“You already healed me, you know,” he groans as he tries to sit up but falls when he leans on his right arm. Katara guides him, weaving her own arm around his back so instead, he rests his weight on her. 

She doesn’t admit she relishes in the touch of his bare skin nor does she admit to wishing the satin sheet would fall further, revealing his toned abdominal muscles that she has admired from afar. Heat rushes through her veins and settles at the pit of her stomach at this sudden proximity. 

Her and Zuko have been much closer before; nothing about this is new, but since his and Azula’s Agni Kai, she now admits that her feelings for Zuko run much deeper than she had originally thought (she remembers admiring his hair and the taut lines carved in his chest and arms but absolutely nothing else when he came to them in the Western Air Temple). If his betrayal in Ba Sing Se crushed her, it was only because she had believed there was good in him despite his history and hoped for the potential of him finding peace. 

“Katara?” he repeats her name. 

“You still need rest,” she chides him but doesn’t attempt to move.

“What are you still doing here?” his head grazes her shoulder and if he notices her holding her breath, he doesn’t say anything. 

“I’m here to make sure you’re okay.” She exhales and with all the confidence she has left, she covers the hand in his lap with hers. Zuko emanates heat from every inch of his skin and his hands burn the hottest. She’s touched him before, so why does this feel so exquisite? 

“What about Aang? Did he defeat my father?” Zuko’s face is downcast as he takes in the sight of her fingers over his. Her thumb traces the skin on the back of his hand.

Biting her lower lip, she tries to find the best way to reveal that his father is now a shell of a man he once was. 

“Aang took his bending away.”

Zuko stiffens. Maybe this was too soon, Katara thinks. She’s spoken out of turn, she should have waited until he was fully healed. 

He relaxes and turns his hand so his palm is under hers.

“So he figured out a way,” he muses aloud. 

She doesn’t know how to respond. She had been just as speechless as he is when she found out. 

“Why aren’t you with him?” he asks. 

When everyone came back to the Fire Nation, Zuko had sectioned off what was left of the palace for everyone. Aang had his own quarters in the west side, but Zuko remained in his childhood bedroom. She had been so relieved to find Aang, Sokka, Suki and Toph unharmed, but throughout Sokka’s entire recounting of the tale, her concern for Zuko had not waned in the slightest. 

Everyone came out (relatively) unscathed, except for him. 

“Why do you think?” she whispers. Her index finger traces figures over his open palm. She feels the fire burn under the skin of his palm, but it doesn’t frighten her like it once did. 

He twines his fingers through hers and tightens his hold. Her heart drums in her chest and somehow, this moment surges her confidence and she frees her hand from their hold to cup his face.

If she thought Zuko’s hand burned the brightest, his eyes were two suns, fueling his fire. 

“I want to be here,” she confesses, “with you.”

His lips twitch and a smile bleeds in the place where there was a constant frown. Pools of pink twinge the apples of his cheeks and Katara delights in seeing Zuko, the boy who withstood lightning coursing through his body, bashful. 

She slants her lips towards his and there’s a pause as both breathe in each other’s air. Closing her eyes, her lips purse and capture his for a chaste kiss. There are no sparks, no fireworks, least of all lightning. She doesn’t mind at all because there is serenity, a calming current of repose that soothes her drumming insides.

He envelopes his hand over the hand on his cheek and shifts his lips to her palm. She watches as he performs each movement gingerly with the utmost of reverence, as if he fears her recoiling. 

“I’m afraid this is a dream,” he murmurs, “and when I wake, you won’t be here.”

She traces the pink twinged flesh along his eye with her thumb, cradling his face with both hands. Her offer to heal his scar comes to the forefront of her mind but that would have been a mistake. To rid Zuko of the scar would be to dismiss the person who Zuko is today. A wave of relief crashes over her now that she realizes she accepts him, wholly and unconditionally. 

“I’m not leaving,” she smiles and brushes his lips with hers. 

**Author's Note:**

> /my fluff quota for 2020 is now fulfilled


End file.
